You're Not Alone Anymore
by RealSherlock
Summary: AU; Teenager Jo Harvelle is dealing with numerous problems (bullying, anxiety, depression, etc.) and is almost at the end of her rope when she meets Sam Winchester, a kid who recently moved in down the road. Can this new friendship help her get through all this? Not Jo/Sam. Rated M for language, mature content, and other things.


**Author's note:**

** Hi there! This is my first time writing Supernatural fanfiction, hopefully you'll enjoy it. ****I don't know, something about watching "No Exit" made me wanna write this.. I've seen a lot of Jo and Sam hate recently so I was reluctant to publish this, but I did anyways. Let's just see how it goes, I guess. Oh, and thanks for reading! Reviews would be much appreciated, and point out any spelling errors if you see them.  
Peace! ^^**

* * *

I was sitting on the bathroom floor, wiping the remaining tears off my face with the sleeve of my black and white plaid button-up overshirt. If I cried any longer I'd end up missing the schoolbus. I needed at least five minutes to pull myself together and act like I was okay before I could leave because I refused to let anyone else know what was going on. I just couldn't let them see how much they actually hurt me, how my tough walls broke down when I was all alone. I'm better than them.

Even though I'm the only one who believes that.

"Joanna Beth, hurry up or you won't get to have breakfast!", my mom called out from the other side of the door.  
I took a deep, shaky breath before answering with an annoyed, "I know, I know!"  
"I gotta start cleaning up the bar, your pancakes are on the table. Have a nice day, hun. I'll see you when you get home."  
"Thanks, see ya."

I listened to the sound of her footsteps fade as she walked away and I pulled myself up off the floor, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes were still a bit puffy and watery, my face somewhat red, but only if you stared would anything be noticeable. Besides, who would even care? I have no friends. I'm a loser. A loner. I'm known as "the freak with the knife collection". I sit alone in the library at lunch. If someone goes near me it's because they're planning on making fun. I've gotten used to it over the years, since my only friend turned out to be a backstabbing bitch who didn't even like me. I'd rather've been kicked around or ignored as I normally am by everyone else than been led on to believe that for once someone truly cared about me, thought of me as a person and not a piece of shit. By the time I realized our whole friendship was a stupid lie, it was too late. The whole school knows most of my secrets, I'm just glad they don't know all of them..

I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out of my "breakdown place" as I've nicknamed it. Without wasting any extra precious minutes by standing around I retreived my bookbag from my room and hurried downstairs to eat pancakes before another dreadful day of Hell. I laughed when I seen that my mom had cut my pancakes up for me into several tiny squares as if I was still ten. Doesn't surprise me since she still treats me like I'm ten, even though I'm fifteen. It's sweet so I don't complain. I ate slowly, even though I wish I didn't have to, but my anxiety prevents otherwise. On top of being bullied for being different and dealing with depression, I'm also stuck with anxiety. The slightest things can trigger a full-on panic attack. Just like I'm good at hiding my other suffering, I've also mastered hiding this.

I hardly managed to force down a few pieces before I had to leave. The thought of school was making my stomach churn in disgust and hatred, but I had to go. My mom would never allow me to drop out, no matter the circumstances. I slung my bookbag's strap over my shoulder and trudged outside. The freezing November winds hit me, sending shivers along my spine. I regret not wearing a sweater but it's too late to go searching for one now. I sighed and roamed up the road to the bus stop. It was almost always only me myself and I there, however today there was a boy waiting as well. I decreased my pace so I could admire him from afar. Wait, I take that back, that sounds kinda creepy.

He didn't appear to be very old, possibly thirteen. His longish shaggy brown hair had a fringe and was visibly smooth, even from the twenty or so meters of distance between us. He was short and skinny, couldn't be anything over a hundred pounds. He was wearing baggy blue jeans, black boots, and a brown jacket that was a size or two too big for him. He wasn't carrying anything with him except a seemingly empty backpack, clearly a new kid.

I was so caught up staring at him that I tripped over a rock and fell. I hissed in pain and dragged myself to my feet, wiping my hands off in my pants and groaning when I realized that I was after tearing the knees out of my jeans. I swore as I checked the palms of my hands. They were cut up from the gravel and bleeding, blood smeared across my jeans from brushing them off. I was a complete mess and I hadn't even reached school yet.

"You're fucking pathetic, Jo.", I muttered bitterly to myself.  
"Hey, are you okay, Jo?"

I almost gasped in shock when I seen the boy was in front of me, looking concerned. I didn't expect him to talk to me, or even come near me since everyone else just avoids me like I'm crazy. I quickly plastered a smile on my face.

"Oh, I'm fine, just a few scrapes, not a big deal.", I said and giggled a little to try and prove my point. He nodded in understanding and returned the smile. I then added "Wait, how do you know my name?"  
"I heard you say it earlier."  
I felt like an idiot and resisted the urge to facepalm.  
"I see.."

"Right, I never introduced myself yet.. I'm Sam Winchester. Pleasure to meet you."


End file.
